In a coma, Fayette felt like he was on a battlefield.

A battlefield that never seems to end.

It was an endless scorched earth stained red with splatters of blood. Occasionally, jagged canyons and craters appear on the fractured ground.

Everywhere there are wars of unprecedented proportions.

In these conflicts, the terroristic demonic minions are either fighting each other or the minions of the rival Chaos Gods. There were bones everywhere, and in some places the height of the bones was piled up like snowdrifts.

There is only a never-ending war here.

Crimson clouds roared across the battlefield to the horizon. There were bones, broken armor, and blades everywhere. The blood pools into small rivers and flows into huge lakes. Amid the roaring sound of horns, warriors fought each other under the scarlet sky.

This is the Land of Dream Demons, unbound by any laws of physics.

In this distorted plane, human fear is given an evil form, and time and space are frantically distorted on top of it. This is the home of the Chaos gods, and the main battlefield where the gods kill each other for supremacy.

In the face of these demonic and heretical wars, Fayette did not try to escape the conflict or violence, but tried to devote and enjoy the opportunity to pile up the heads of the enemies of the empire under the throne of the emperor.

Sadism doesn't care where the blood comes from, but Fayette does. He didn't want to swing his weapon at his comrades.

But at the moment, there is no innocent person on this battlefield.

Fayette can put aside his scruples, and there are plenty of opportunities for him to satisfy his thirst for violence.

Fayette didn't know how he got here, or what it was. All he knew was that he was going on a killing spree.

Leaving his composure and sanity in place, Fayette rushed into the never-ending, never-ending war with a rage and desire to kill.

With blood as the background, screams as the accompaniment, and skulls as props.

Holding his weapon in front of him, Faet used his physical strength and sheer willpower to defy all attacks, jumping, spinning, tumbling, and dancing from battlefield to battlefield.

Bloodletters, Berserkers, Plague Walking Corpses, Succubi, Demon Dreaders......

Fayette had no idea how many slashes he had received on his armor, how many bullets he had been hit, or how many sorcery attacks he had suffered.

His eyes were full of only the heads of his enemies.

Faet shook off a demon's attack, slashing his battle axe into the demon's right shoulder plate with both hands, chanting his oath to the God-Emperor.

His anger was vented in a single blow, and the tomahawk cut a straight line on the opponent's breastplate. The demon's right arm slipped away along with most of its torso and fell to the ground.

He froze in place, seemingly unaware of the blood that flowed from his mangled half. He seemed to want to say something, but Fayette wasn't listening.

Fayette swung his axe at the demon's head, and the severed head spun with the force of the blow and fell to the ground. The lifeless torso fell immediately afterward.

In less than a few seconds, Fayette had dealt with the enemy in front of him. Then he kicked the demon's body away and turned to search for the next battle.

But no matter how much Fayette kept killing, the number of people on the entire battlefield did not decrease in the slightest. The deaths he caused were nothing more than a drop in the bucket in this world of war.

Perhaps the number of people Fayette killed in his life could not be compared to the number of people who died on this battlefield in a second.

And no matter how the various forces on the battlefield continue to reduce their personnel, the battle between them is still agitated.

Having slew another demon of unknown power, Fayette bent down to retrieve his spoils.

He gazed at the severed head, expertly pulling out a chain through the jaw of the skull, hanging it with the skull of other demons or heretics.

Fayette stood up.

At some point, the skull had filled the space on his body.

Fayette felt his strength growing. He knew that it was the Father of Blood who was praising his harvest, but his bloodlust was not satisfied.

He threw the skull that had just been tied to his body on the ground, along with the previous skull, and stacked a Jingguan.

Fayette was no longer satisfied with that, he knew that his growing power was the God-Emperor leading him to the greater spoils of war.

Faette fixed his gaze on a sadistic archdemon, raised his weapon, and rushed towards the tyrannical avatar.

Perhaps Faette can still remember his belief in the emperor, but in this chaos with no time and no space, Faette will sooner or later confuse the two figures sitting on different thrones.

Any remaining sanity is eroded through perpetual conflict and brutal violent routines, until Fayette becomes a ruthless killer and servant of the Raging Lord.

············

I don't know how long later, Fayette still walked on this battlefield, and countless enemies died under his axe. And he's powerful enough to make the Chaos Demon look sideways.

His breastplate had long since been torn to shreds, and his body was covered in scars.

Faet's body, which showed signs of battle everywhere on its body, became like a demon under the command of the Sadist, with a blood-red skin and a breath of blood lingering.

No one knows if it was because the blood of countless enemies had been sprinkled on Faette's body, obscuring the original color of his skin, or because Faet had fallen into the arms of terror.

Fayette's eyes were red, and he looked up at the sky, blood sliding down his face.

The darkness burst open, and he rose from the burning sand, hanging in the blazing sky, the purgatory-like earth beneath his feet.

Mountains of skulls pierced into the sky, and rivers of blood and fire cut through the white desert of broken bones, cutting through the canyons. Heavy ash fell from the sky: fragments of souls that had just left the forge of the gods, still boiling hot.

He saw the figure sitting on the throne.

She has been paying attention to this battlefield, looking down on all beings from above.

And now, she held out his palm to herself.

············

Those sadistic followers, they have only one goal - to collect more skulls.

As they worked for it, the blood god continued to bless them.

For the sake of those abilities and gifts that can increase their success, they do not consider the effect on their minds and souls.

The pros and cons of these divine favors are quite enormous, but countless followers of Chaos are still flocking to them.

And the most desired of all is that the Lord of Blood will carve their true names into their souls as if they were a demon.

This means that the Blood God holds it in the highest esteem, and that the recipient may one day join her powerful demon army.

They will have the potential to transform from a weak human into a powerful demon prince, a being of godlike power, forever bound to darkness.

Those who embark on the path of chaos will seek such apotheosis and await this glorious moment to shed their mortal bodies and become part of the eternal darkness.

And just as Fayette was accepting the changes that countless people had dreamed of, suddenly, a golden light shot into his world, shattering the suffocating illusion.

Like sunlight piercing through the darkness, he bathed in light, the fluttering ashes were all dispersed, the blood stains on his body were completely purified, and the scars on his body were all healed and intact.

The world in his eyes, which had been obscured by blood, brightened again. A figure descended slowly before him, and he saw another god.

"Lord Sivir." Fayette said in surprise.

······

Sivir spent an unknown number of centuries here, until he finally admitted that there was no way out here. He'd used everything he could think of, but he still couldn't get out of here.

He was trapped.

Something, or a person, or something else, intercepted his teleportation, preventing him from leaving here.

And there are only a handful of people in the entire universe who can do this, and Sivir has already answered in his heart.

He fell into a trap.

A trap set by the evil gods of subspace.

The goal of the Chaos Gods is to prevent the Emperor from interfering with reality with the help of psionic avatars, perhaps also to destroy the veil of the universe and subspace, allowing their twisted tentacles to extend into reality.

And now it seems that he is also one of their goals.

Sivir searched the Realm of Chaos for a way out, but found nothing. The Chaos Gods trapped him here, and even he couldn't escape.

However, even the Chaos Evil God could not stop the connection between Sivir and the Emperor.

The Emperor can learn about Sivir's condition, and Sivir can also learn about the current state of the Empire through the Emperor.

And although the four gods can trap Sivir, even with their strength, they can't completely destroy Sivir, who has a powerful power comparable to them and is bound to the emperor, at this time.

So Sivir didn't panic too much about being trapped. Because of this, Sivir did not agree to the emperor's plan to fight with the four gods to save him.

At this time, the empire is facing a powerful threat from beyond the galaxy, and humanity cannot do without the protection of the emperor.

The Empire is like a thriving sapling at this time, and the countless Tyranids are trying to gnaw at the foundations of the Empire like bugs trying to burrow into the trees.

The warriors of the Empire were able to sacrifice their lives to try their best to stop the gnawing of these bugs, but they could not prevent the subspace shadow formed by the will of the hive from blocking the light needed for the growth of the "Empire" plant.

Only when the sun of the emperor shines on the empire can the empire digest many nutrients and its growth can not be affected.

Tyranid creatures are not a threat that the Empire can easily solve, and at this most dangerous time for the Empire, as the regent of the Empire, Sivir cannot allow the Emperor to provoke another powerful enemy with the power to destroy the Empire because of himself.

And, there is another reason.

The Emperor devotes most of his power to building psionic avatars, using it to combine his will with these psionic avatars. The emperor at this time can be said to be extremely weak.

Sivir was also injured by the self-detonation of the psionic avatar seized by the chaos, and his spirit and will were severely damaged.

Now is not the best time to go to war against the four gods.

As a result, Sivir struggled to convince the Emperor to accept that he would find a way out on his own, while the Emperor was responsible for recovering his power as quickly as possible with the help of the Psionic Siphon, and was responsible for managing the empire during Sivir's absence.

The Emperor could not deny this.

He told Sivir that he would strike when he thought the time had come.

······

Sivir searched around in this realm of chaos.

This is the playground of the evil gods, where they are engaged in a never-ending struggle called the "Great Game". This is a game played by the Chaos Gods in order to compete for absolute dominance in the Chaos Realm.

The Chaos Gods have put almost all of their energy into this great game. They seldom turn their attention to the physical universe, and if they do, it is only a fleeting glance.

Because the great game of fighting for dominance of the subspace is far more important than those things in the physical universe.

But the Chaos Gods may cooperate in some very specific circumstances, usually when an extremely powerful being that can attract the interest of the gods rises in the material universe.

The Emperor was one of them, so the four gods together provoked the Horus Rebellion, which temporarily diverted the attention of the four gods from the great game.

Sivir is another one, and now he is caught in the game and can't get out.

The four gods seemed to treat Sivir as a chess piece and put it on this chessboard, but they sat in the position of the chess player, controlling every move of the chess pieces on the chessboard.

But Siwell's "chess piece" is not something that the four gods can hold at will.

For the first hundred years, Sivir roamed the battlefield, watching as the forces of the four gods fought endlessly, meaninglessly for the gods they believed in.

He wandered incessantly, looking for a way to get out of here.

In the second hundred years, Sivir, who had little to gain, began to choose to make this battlefield of slaughter more intense, trying to eliminate the demons and heretics who were used as "pawns" by the four gods.

Except for the four gods, there had never been a being as powerful as Sivir on this battlefield.

Those low-level demons simply stared at Sivir's figure, and their very existence would be destroyed. Those Chaos Demons, who were known as the most powerful creations of the Chaos Evil God, could not survive a round under the sword in Sivir's hands.

Countless demons and cultists fell under Sivel's sword, but the four gods did not react as Sivir expected.

No matter how many demons Sivir killed, there was still a steady stream of demons entering this chaotic realm. The four gods are still playing a game they never get tired of.